


Warmth

by dnitegirl



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Character Study, Fix-It, Gen, Post-Sunwell Plateau, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:06:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1504670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnitegirl/pseuds/dnitegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your time in this world may have been fraught with much darkness and despair, even at your own hand. Still, there is much greatness you can do. Before you, there is a path full of light and redemption. It will not be easy but even those such as you deserve the chance to right all the wrong."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> This started as an RP starter, but I felt it stands alone. A Fix-It fic where Kael is given a second chance.

Cold. He felt cold. Drifting in the nothingness that surrounded him. It was an honest relief though. For too long he had been suffering from the hands of his addiction, from the hands of the demon lord, from his own choices. His own death was a gift, an escape from the pain that had been haunting him. In his last few days, he had not been himself. No, he was little more than a puppet with the Legion pulling the strings. The sharp glide of the blade through his neck had been freedom.

He could be happy here in death.

He had no way of knowing how long he had been floating through the darkness. Time was a mortal concept for the living and Kael did not have any right to either of those. His thoughts, his life, played through his mind as he had no physical body to interact with the oblivion. Looking back on his childhood warmed his heart, something most welcome in the freezing emptiness. His long years growing up and moving to Dalaran showed him life as he wished it had remained. An image of Jaina would occasionally flash up and if he had a mouth, he would smile.

All the good things kept him company, but those were not the only thoughts to occupy him. The wars, the bloody conflicts that swept through everything he had held dear, were just as prevalent in his current state. Jaina would be replaced by that devil of a man and Kael could do nothing as Arthas tore the attachments he had to pieces one by one. It filled him with a deep anger and a deep sadness. 

Still it had not been as bad as when he was forced to watch the lowest point he had ever reached. The dream would fool him, make him think that all was well. Together in Outland, right hand of Illidan, proud to serve his master along side Lady Vashj. It was good. Here he felt respect, he had purpose and his company was pleasant. With Illidan, he truly felt as if he could accomplish anything.

Still, as he had learned, all good things must come to an end.

A shadow fell that day that Illidan was stuck down by that cursed frozen blade. What was once unstoppable crashed hard into the ground. Kael had tried to salvage the wreckage, but the damage had been done. Their master was not as he once was and Kael felt a clawed hand reach inside of his own body. That was the begining of the end. From his current outsider’s point of view, what he saw the figure that was him but not do, was far more terrifying than facing the full onslaught of the Scourge. The broken promises to his people, the betrayal of everyone he held close, all for the sake of abandoning every moral fiber he once possessed, that was the worst part. When forced to see the wretched creature pulled from the brink of death, kept alive only from the sickly green crystal jammed into his chest, Kael wanted to cry. 

That was him.

That was his legacy. 

Kael mourned. He mourned for himself, no matter how selfish it was. He mourned for his people, at how much trust they placed in him when he only let them down. He mourned for Illidan, the elf who had lived a far more tragic life than he could possibly comprehend and he hated himself for his own role in only worsening it. He mourned the world, and only hoped his actions had not held a hand in its undoing.

He drifted, reflecting, accepting….

….

.

_"Kael’thas Sunstrider"_

A warmth flooded him, so different, so welcome from the cold. 

_"Your time in this world may have been fraught with much darkness and despair, even at your own hand. Still, there is much greatness you can do. Before you, there is a path full of light and redemption. It will not be easy but even those such as you deserve the chance to right all the wrong."_

The warmth grew stronger and stronger until to consumed his senses. His entire being hummed and while the sensation was intense, he found it pleasant and let it grow into an inferno inside him.

.

…

He gasped. A breath filled his lungs that he had once thought long gone. At first he choked, and coughed of the tingling essence that had filled his throat. It didn’t hurt though. There was no sensation of drowning. His arms flailed to find ground and he was shocked to find more strength than he had anticipated within his muscles. A finger bumped a ledge and Kael gripped the surface and pulled himself upright.

On solid ground, Kael panted. After a few moments, he opened his eyes, and the light made his vision hazy and he immediately shut them. For so long he had been blind that the sudden flood of colors and shimmers were too much for his eyes to take in.

Again, he tried, this time cracking his eyes open slowly. He gaped at what he saw.

The Sunwell. He was in the chamber of the Sunwell and he could scarcely believe it. The light, it was so beautiful and Kael found himself crying. He had thought… he had thought surely the Legion had taken this place. But he had never been so thankful to be so wrong before.

_"Kael’thas."_

The same voice that had touched his mind in the darkness once again rang in his head. 

"What? Who goes there?" He asked to the chamber, seeing no one. It was painful to speak, but it was so great to hear his own voice.

_"I am M’uru. Perhaps you remember me."_

M’uru? The Naaru. “Tempest Keep, you were…” And the tears at his eyes only grew heavier. “I am sorry. I am so sorry for all the pain I have caused you. You must want revenge and I will let you take it. None deserve it more than you.”

_"No, that is not my wish young one. The prophet Velen had resurrected me into the light of your precious Sunwell. I know, and have always known the path you would take. I do not blame you. Kil’Jaedan should take the weight of all your sorrow. As I fell into a darkened state, you did too by other’s will. As I have been rebirthed into light, I grant you the same opportunity."_

And the music of the voice continued to warm his heart, showing him a love he thought long lost. “Great one. I am unworthy of this chance. I am a wretch. Such a gift should go to someone far more holy than I.”

_"It has been done child. There is no undoing it. Use this chance to fix your mistakes. To change the path you had taken into a brighter future.You have much potential young Prince. Do not waste it."_

"I cannot say I agree, but I understand."

_"Now go. If you stay here, you shall be hunted. In time they will forgive you, but the wound is still too recent for them to accept you."_

"Thank you for everything M’uru." Kael said humbly. He stood to find himself still in the robe he had been in when he had died, but all his wounds had vanished, and for the first time since Arthas had corrupted this very room, Kael felt no trace of his addiction. He was pure. 

He opened a portal to the first place he could think of and was soon stepping into the grounds of the Black Temple.


End file.
